Cry Another Day
by Elisabeth Carmichael
Summary: My first CJ fanfic, please R&R. Jordan slowly attempts to win Woody back, but when certain events transpire, will she run away or into his arms? WJ NEW! CHAPTER 12 ADDED! I promise they will get together in the end.
1. You Can Listen

**A.N.** This is my first completed CJ fanfic. I've had the ideas since the finale, but it takes me ages to type stories into my computer from manuscript. Any feedback and criticism would be greatly appreciated, especially regarding characterization. Please, read and review so that I can make it better.

**Disclaimer:** I most certainly do own Crossing Jordan. Actually, if I did, Jordan would have not answered her cell, Woody would not be such a dick in the hospital, the idiot would not have driven up during thier makeout session, and she would never have slept with that ADA. But then again, that is why we have fanfiction.

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**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

_Don't cry for me today baby. I'm not dead yet. Don't weep for me today sweetheart. My love is still intact. Don't forget me today love. My soul is still your book. Today there is nothing the matter, but I'd be obliged should you decide and cry another day._

The gruffness in his voice seemed so foreign to her, so alien. It was not the way he talked to a suspect pointing a gun at his head. It was different from how he talked to a man threatening Jordan's life. It was somehow colder and filled with more venomous hatred. It was not the Woody she had come to care so deeply about…it was someone else sitting there in that hospital gown, bloodied, tired. It was not _her_ Woody.

Just when she was ready for a relationship, he had pulled away. The ring, she had wanted to accept it, to say she loved him, but then he said it was over. She whispered to him as he was wheeled in to surgery, and he pushed harder away, calling it pity. Her face revealed blatant hurt as he told her to leave, but she did so only briefly. The next day she was back, her softly curled hair carelessly thrown into a bun as messy strands did little to mask her puffy eyes. No make up adorned her face, just dried tears reflecting off her rouge cheeks.

She collapsed into the chair next to his bed, allowing tears to freely fall down her cheeks as he lay there in a fitful slumber. Her hands moved to caress his face, rubbing a thumb over his lips, dwelling in what could have transpired. The pain would not leave her body, seeing him in pain, afraid. She softly lowered her lips to his and lingered there faintly before resting her head upon his chest and crying herself into an unpleasant sleep.

Woody's eyes flickered into consciousness as he raised his head slightly off the pillow to see her tired head resting upon his chest. What didn't she understand about leaving him the hell alone? His eyes, cold and menacing took her in.

But she looked so sad and tired, so very disappointed, that his hand instinctively stroked her hair whispering, "Hush Jo, you'll be fine."

To his surprise, she did not wake up, but rather kept her fitful sleep peppered with heavy sobs in constant rhythm. Deciding her presence could be dealt with later, he fell back into a slumber as his hand rested upon her head.

She awoke an hour later to find his hand upon her head which she stroked lovingly. Tears streamed down her face with a distant despondency.

"Woody, please, be fine, don't leave me, just be fine, please," she pleaded with his sleeping head.

It did little to ease either of their pain. Grasping his frail hands in hers, she gulped heavily as tears dotted her eyes glimmering with the need to be poured out. Her face cringed in pain, suppressing a sob as she gripped his hands tighter.

"Woody, I don't know if you can hear this, I mean you're sleeping, but I'm going to talk…" tears halted her as she choked them back, "…and you can listen."

The gentle bleeping of the heart monitor continued as she brushed back tears, "Okay, I know you don't really want me to be here, but I care about you so much Woody, I can't concentrate on anything but you. And it scares me because for the first time I don't feel independent or in control. I am dependent upon us…upon our little dance. And to commit yourself to one person, the one person you are meant to be with, that is love…that is so scary. It requires trust, and, and commitment, and it requires love, honest love for someone else. It has always scared me, love, commitment, but life is too short for me to keep running. The only place I want to run is into your arms, and maybe on a six mile run with you," she cracked a slight smile, "And I don't think you know how hard it is to say this to you, but I have to, I hope that you don't push me away because I do need someone to hold me closer. I…I love you Woody Hoyt, oh God, Woody, please just love me back."

Her head fell onto her hands, buried in her hair. Between her sobs she could hear the monitor bleep in an almost acknowledgement of her words. Woody's eyes fluttered, making sure she was there. He struggled to remain silent throughout her speech, but he knew that his stubborn ego would have stopped her long before her admission. Still, her pain required some form of recognition, and so he raised his eyes and moved his arm slightly. His movement instantly caught her attention as she brushed back strands of disheveled hair and wiped away a few stray tears.

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**More to come...**

Please read and REVIEW so that the next few chapters can get better. Thanks!

-Elisabeth Carmichael


	2. It Wasn't Just a Kiss

**A.N. **Sorry for the short chapter. The next should be uploaded by tomorrow. As always, R&R.

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**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-**  
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"Hey," she allowed the corner of her lips to turn up, "You're awake."

He gave her a non-reply.

"Did you uh…" she looked down embarrassed, "hear that, what I just said?"

He remained expressionless, "Why? Does that change anything?"

She looked hurt, "No, no Woody, I meant every word of it."

Her hands moved on top of his, "I care about you so much."

He studied her intently with a gruffness in his gaze, "I can't do this right now. You need to leave."

"I'm not leaving you Woody," tears dripped silently down her cheeks, "I could never, ever leave you again."

"Jordan, go."

Biting her lip, she contemplated obeying him, "You'll have to handcuff me before I leave you."

In defeat he turned away and shut his eyes. Their two egos were battling for space in the compact hospital room. As an uneasy silence drifted between them, Jordan shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Walls."

"What?" Woody looked at her exasperated.

"It wasn't really just a kiss."

"What?" he said incredulously.

"In L.A., in the desert, two years ago," she seemed to wistfully remember it.

"Geez Jo, why would you think to bring that up?"

"I lied when I said it meant nothing."

"You lied," he deadpanned, "Water under the bridge by now."

"I really did have feelings for you, but it scared me. Woody I was scared of hurting you…of being hurt. _Everyone _I have ever loved has left me or hurt me, or been hurt by me. Woody, I love you so much that I couldn't allow you to get close. I don't want to lose our friendship, but friendship won't satisfy me. Nigel was right. I do need to step up to the plate."

"Pity."

She looked away with downcast eyes and then furiously stared him down, "I put my heart on the line and you call it pity? Woodrow I have absolutely NO pity for you. Love is NOT pity." Her yelling broke into sobs as she collapsed upon his chest, "…and I'm so tired of you not seeing it. If anyone hates pity stares..." her head shook profusely, "How could I give you something that I think should be a felony?" her lips cracked only slightly.

"Me?" he asked stunned, "What about you? How long have I waited for something like this, how long have I waited for you to come around? They all saw it, Nigel, Garret, Lily, they all told me to keep going, that my pursuit of you was not fruitless, and after getting my ego crushed for the billionth time, I tried."

She looked hurt, eyes welling with tears, her throat being choked on sobs, "You didn't have to…Woody I wish I had known, or not been so afraid."

She got up and ran her hands savagely back through her hair, "Jesus, Woody, I guess you don't…I'm too late…I'm so sorry…I better go now, leave you how you want to be…not be a pain in the ass for once in my damn life."

"Fine Jordan, just leave! And stay away because I don't need you or your pity."

Her eyes fell, and the color flushed from her face as she stormed out, running shoes pressing against the floor.


	3. Some Luck

**A.N.** I've tried to tone down Jordan's crying a bit, but I still think she would eventually become emotional about this whole ordeal. This is a bit longer chapter, but hopefully the next few will be uploaded soon. As always, read and review because the reviews give me the inspiration to keep going.**  
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**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

Garret stepped out of the elevator and spun Jordan around.

"Get back in there right now Jordan."

"Garret, stay out of it," she brushed right past him, riding the elevator down to the lobby and to the nearest bar where she drank herself into a stupor.

After his hour long visit with Woody, Garret was on his way to find Jordan. She was not sitting at the bar right outside the hospital, but something told him that she was there.

"Jordan! You in there?" he called from outside what appeared to be the restroom door at the bar.

No answer.

"Jo, I'm coming in," he slowly opened the door, revealing, not a washroom, but an alley, dingy and dank.

"Garret?" a weak voice came from behind some trash cans.

"Jordan! Are you okay?" he quickly brushed away the trash cans with his feet and knelt down to her, "What happened?"

Jordan lay on the ground, obviously drunk beyond control, and severely bruised.

"I, I, I, I was attacked."  
"Were you raped?" Garret asked in a panic.

Her eyes glazed over, "No, I…and then…" she said between breaths, "He tried to but I…I fought back…he had a knife. He cut me."

She looked feebly down to where her shirt was horribly torn, exposing a pink bra stained crimson, leading from a coagulated river of blood. She put a hand to the blood in shock.

"He slashed me."

Garret looked down in horror, "I'm calling an ambulance Jordan. Geeze, how did this happen?"

Her face was blank and absent as she attempted to open her mouth to explain. She was as helpless as when Digger had buried her alive.

"I have to go," she hurriedly got up, being wary of her slashed breasts.

"Jordan! You need to get…" he shouted, realizing the futility of what he was saying, "checked out."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran to the elevator, riding it up to the ICU and stumbling into Woody's room. His sleepy figure only drew out more painful emotions as she collapsed her head into her hands. Her balance fumbled as she tried to move over to his bedside. Wires, trays, samples, it was a haunted house maze that she could not escape in her drunkenness. Stumbling over her feet, Jordan caught herself on the sample tray which held jars of freshly obtained specimen. With a crash, it was all over the ground next to her, one of the containers spilled open. As it seeped up her pants and over her shirt, soaking them in the sticky substance, her cries became more evident, calling attention from the nurses' station.

"Mr. Hoyt, are you okay?" one of the nurses could be heard clamoring down the hall. As she turned into his room, she stopped suddenly, "Miss Cavanaugh! What happened?"

Jordan reluctantly pulled herself up, "I…I fell. I'm sorry."

The nurse looked at her in horror, "You're cut! Oh my gosh! Let me get you some clean scrubs and sutures. Oh you poor thing."

Jordan cast a guilty glance at Woody's bed where his eyes stared blankly at her, blue and void of any emotions. He almost seemed upset that she had interrupted his sleep, caring little about the slash mark across her exposed breast.

She shuffled out of the room with a sigh, "Sorry" which came out more as a question than anything.

The nurse handed her a folded pair of blue scrubs, "Miss Cavanaugh, you really shouldn't disturb him so."

Jordan weakly accepted the scrubs, wincing at the southern accented hostility, "Ummm," she ran a free hand through her hair, "It's Dr. Cavanaugh."

"Oh, well, then you should know better."

Jordan shrugged it off and went into the public restroom to changer her clothes. She emerged in the unflattering scrubs, eyes tear stained but resolute. Still in a daze, she stared blankly at the sterile walls of the exam room as she was sutured. Her vehement protests were the only reason she was allowed to wander around the hospital after getting stitched up, but it was not without warning to not upset either herself or Mr. Hoyt. At this, Jordan scoffed before getting up and wandering to his room.

"Hey," she said weekly from the doorframe of Woody's hospital room.

He rolled his head towards her, "What happened?"

"Uh, you know, drunken stumble. I'm sorry for spilling that um, whatever it was."

"It's alright," he grinned slightly, "It's one of the more enjoyable tests."

Catching the comfortable tone of the room and his voice, she let out a trademark, "Oh," with one side of her mouth curved open. "Whoa, is that what that was? Wow, this is awkward." She paused, "Never thought it would happen like this."

He groaned, "I distinctly recall telling you to leave and never come back."

"I'm not leaving."

"Jordan!" Garret shouted with mixed relief and anger, "You need to get checked out by a doctor."

Woody looked confused.

"I'm fine Garret," Jordan hissed, "It's been taken care of."

"You were raped!" he shouted empathetically, "They need to do a rape kit."

Eyes cold as stone, Jordan stared at him, "I was not raped."

"He made two very deep cuts into your…your," he stared at her hoping she would catch his drift, "What do you call that?"

"He only tried…I fought back."

Woody stared earnestly at Jordan, "Someone tried to rape you?"

"No." "Yes." Jordan and Garret said in unison.

"That's why your shirt was ripped," he stated in amazement. "Are you okay?"

"Shaken up, drunk, bloody, but I'm alright for the most part," she said with complete sincerity as she ran a hand through her messy brown tresses.

"Good."

"Jordan you need that cut taken…" Garret started.

"It's been sutured Garret. I'm not stupid! I'll be out in a second. Just give me a moment."

He quietly left Jordan and Woody alone in the room.

"I'm sorry Wood, so sorry for leaving. I wanted to stay but…you needed time. I needed a drink…or a drunken spell…or something."

"Don't be sorry. Just go talk to Garret."

"Ill be back."

"NO, Jordan, it's better if we just…if you…friends or something, nothing more."

"I'll be back" she repeated and then closed the door.

Down in the ER, Garret was explaining to the police how he found Jordan as one of the doctors did as much of a rape kit as she would allow.

"You're lucky. This guy didn't win," Dr. Roku said.

"Some luck," Jordan mumbled as she fiddled with a stray strand of hair.


	4. Who's the Father?

**A.N.** Sorry it took so long to update. There have been a few family crises going on. Hopefully I'll update a chapter or two a day from now on, but I won't promise anything.

Reviews are always greatly appreciated and are my inspiration to continue updating. Constructive criticism welcome.

**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

For three and a half months after her attack, Jordan would go to work and work her heart out. After work she would go immediately to Woody's side…in the hospital or in rehab, and she would sit there, holding his hand as he slept. Occasionally he would be awake. Those times she would just sit there, making small talk, or being silent gazing into his sea blue eyes.

The rehab was tedious, but he was a pro. The fact that he had gained great mobility in a relatively short span of time lifted his spirits. But he still resented Jordan's pity. It still bothered him that she doted on him so constantly. He hated the pity, but even more, he hated how she was letting herself go. Her face was always adorned by smoky rings under her eyes, and she looked like she had given up running altogether and gained a few extra pounds all over, but most notably in her arms. Secretly though, behind the shabby façade, he loved the tiny spark of the old Jordan that was only visible when she was sleeping, and seeing that gave him enough courage to persevere.

"Hey, you're awake!" Jordan seemed astonished as she fumbled her messenger bag, a diaper bag, and a sleeping baby in her arms.

His eyes fixated upon the baby in her arms; it appeared to be no more than a few weeks old. Seeing the dark hair thinly placed on the baby's head, Woody's eyes narrowed. He caught a glimpse of the whiskey colored eyes, noting that babies usually had blue eyes.

Jordan sat down in the chair next to his bed and reached for his hand. It recoiled, leaving and expression of hurt on Jordan's face.

"Woody," she pleaded, "I, I, Woody."

"Jordan." He deadpanned, "When did you pop that out?" he motioned towards the baby with a snort.

The baby began to fuss profusely, "Oh, you upset her!" Jordan said as she began making baby noises and playing with the baby.

She looked like a maternal goddess as she bopped the baby's nose with her finger.

"Hush, hush," she said to the baby with a smile, "Emma needs to go to sleep. Yes she does, yes she does."

The baby's eyes drew sleepily shut. Jordan repositioned her closer to her body.

"When did you have her?" Woody repeated with more certainty, noting how similar the name Emma is to Emily.

"Emma?" Jordan asked innocently.

"Yes, the baby in your arms," he said, obviously peeved.

"She's two weeks old," Jordan was beaming.

"I had no clue you were pregnant. You hide it well. Who's the father?"

"Garret," she said flatly.

"I had no idea you two…"


	5. Over Three and a Half Years Ago

**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

"Oh, no, no! Woody, she isn't mine. Garret and Renee…they got back together. This is their daughter."

Her eyes twinkled as she gazed lovingly at the baby resting in her arms. Emma Madison seemed to embody peacefulness and hope with her perfect combination of Garret and Renee's features.

A look of relief swept over Woody's face before he was able to successfully mask it, "Why do you have her then?"

"Babysitting. It's kind of a favor to Gar for letting me be here with you every night."

"I thought she was yours…you have that 'maternal glow' thing going on," he said with little discernable emotion, "And your um…they look fuller, but that is probably just from your attack."

"I didn't know you kept track of my breasts," she said unabashedly.

"So you aren't pregnant?"

"Woody, the last time I had sex was with that DA guy over three and a half years ago," her face grew a little red.

"Why? A girl like you is bound to get plenty of offers."

"Suddenly, casual sex seemed unimportant."

He smiled inwardly.

"You know Wood, this has been the most civil conversation we've had in months, and I'm holding a baby no less."

He couldn't help but smile slightly. Their eyes caught each other's briefly, a lingering feeling of adoration silently floating between the two.

"Woody, take Emma for a sec," she quickly put Emma in his arms and raced to his toilet before puking her guts out. After rinsing out her mouth and washing her hands, Jordan sat down, noticing how content Woody seemed as he held Emma.

"You okay?" he asked, eyes still on the sleeping baby in his arms.

"I've been throwing up for the past week and a half. It's a side effect of this new solution we're using at work. It's bad."

"Sorry about that, it sounds like…" he paused, pretending to be preoccupied with the baby.

"Like what Woody?"

"It's nothing, just, you know, sounds like a pain."

He smiled down at Emma who had fallen asleep in his arms peacefully, "I've always wanted kids. They are just gems." His face turned a sunburned pink.

"I always figured I'd screw kids up for life. But Wood, I'm so sorry…if you had rid yourself of me before either of us became attached, you could have a wife and kids by now."

"It was as much of my own making," he smiled, "Besides, I'm not sure I really could get married right now…or anytime soon."

She just smiled sadly at him.

"Uh, I'm so hungry," Woody complained.

Jordan leaned over his bed, her shirt resting on his head as she pressed the call button.

"Hey!" Woody shouted, "What was that for?"

"What was what for?"

"You just…I don't know, kicked me or something…on the head."

She jumped back slightly, "What? Oh, sorry, umm, must've bumped you with my elbow" she said nervously rubbing her elbow. Regaining composure, she said, "Woody, I'm so sorry I prevented you from having a family."

She removed Emma from his arms and gathered up her bags, heading for the door, "Really, Woody, I'm so sorry."

"Just go before I blame you."


	6. It's Nothing

**A.N. **I'm sorry it has taken so long to update. My muse ran away from me for a few days.

As always, reviews are very fabulous no matter what they say!

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**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

"Looks like we have some hairs, dyed, most likely female. Root's still intact," Jordan held up a strand of hair before placing it in a container for DNA testing.

"Our killer wasn't so neat after all," Nigel winked. "How much do you wanna wager that the hair belongs to his wife?"

"Oh, look at this, the lacerations around his neck have some red…" she motioned to Nigel as she pointed towards the lacerations. "Does that look like red nail polish to you?"

"Looks like the grieving widow is just an act," he smiled.

"Yeah, open and…" Jordan held her mouth shut and rushed to a trashcan. "Ugh! Ew, not again."

"You alright love?" Nigel snapped off his gloves. "Maybe you should give your doctor a call and see if you can get an allergy shot."

"It's nothing Nige," she wiped her face on a hand kerchief.

"Doctor," he said without room to bargain.

"Alright, I'll go just to please you," she held her hands up in mock surrender with a fake grin across her lips.

She tugged at her scrubs which had become even less flattering as her butt began pushing at the seams to burst open. She emerged file in hand a few minutes later to share her findings with Detective Winslow.

"Jordan," Garret stopped her in the hall, "You look awful. Are you getting enough sleep?"

"I'm fine."

"Look, if you want to take a day or two off, I'll understand. Having a loved one in the hospital is hard on anyone. Your caseload only compounds it."

She put her hands up in defense, "I'm fine Gar. I just need half of tomorrow off for a doctor's appointment. It's not like I'm Woody's family or anything."

His eyes widened, "I'm not getting into that with you right now," he looked slightly exasperated, "You do know that yearly physicals aren't due for another, well, a while, don't you?"

"Nige is worried about my reaction to that new stuff."

"Alright, take the whole day and spend extra time with Woody. He may not be family, but he is the closest thing you have."

She gave him a wan smile, "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

"Dr. Cavanaugh," the nurse at her gynecologist's office led her out of the waiting room, "Right this way."

Jordan put a copy of _People Magazine_ on the table and headed back, putting on an amazingly embarrassing gown and sitting back in the exam chair.

There was a knock on the door which Jordan acknowledged with a "Come in."

"Hi Jordan, so what brings you here today?" the doctor flipped up her chart, "Possible allergic reaction?"

"Yeah. It's nothing really, but my coworkers…" she said in a half daze.

"Is everything okay?" the doctor asked as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

"I haven't gotten much sleep lately."

"Do you need a prescription for sleeping pills?"

"No…there just isn't time to sleep," Jordan said in an attempt to be witty.

"I need to give you a full workup, but you really need to cut back and get some sleep. It isn't healthy for you."

The doctor carefully placed her hands on the tops of Jordan's breast and began pushing lightly, "Your breasts are swollen, but that could be from your attack described in your charts." Her hands moved towards Jordan's abdomen, "Has this attack made it difficult to exercise regularly?"

Jordan's mouth was open in a slight but pronounced oh, her eyes full of shock, "No, I haven't gotten out much because of work, but I still eat as healthy as always."

The doctor grinned slightly, "Okay. When did you last have sex?"

Jordan stared at her perplexed for a moment, "Uh, three…three and half years ago at least."

The doctor stared Jordan intently in the eyes, "Well, I'm going to wait on your labs. If it doesn't show any anomalies I'll recommend you to an allergist, but it could be temporary, a combination of lack of sleep, possibly alcohol, could be causing you to have an adverse reaction."


	7. Triple Checked

**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

The overcast skies hung low to the ground, biting at the exposed tips of noses, whistling menacingly in ears, clinging fiercely to clothing in beads of dankness. Jordan's black boots struck the pavement with a splash, upsetting the puddles of water which had formed on the aged and worn away cement. She forged ahead in the fog, foreign to the usually sweltering summer.

"Knock, knock," she rapped her knuckles on his doorframe before entering with a half baked grin.

She was soaked in dampness, a soft mustiness which could chill the bones faster than pouring buckets of rain. Her hair retained its curly texture, but carried a heavier, sadder dankness to it which matched perfectly Jordan's mediocre mood.

Woody looked up at her voice and began walking slowly to her using his cane and the walls for support.

"Now I can actually kick you out of my room," he said grinning, "Get out."

She tried her hardest to keep a straight face, but began beaming, "Oh Woody! I'm so glad to finally see you walking around!"

"Yeah, well," he smiled, pulling her into his arms.

She abandoned her trademark hug, looking out over the other person's shoulder with emotion filled eyes, and buried her head in his hair, smelling it, smelling him, and forming a memory of how wonderful he truly is.

He sat down in an armchair and motioned for her to do the same.

"I had the day off…thought seeing you would be fun," she said.

"Physical therapy brings out my gross side, but…"

"I've seen your ugly side Woody…when you kicked me out the first time. I've never seen you more upset or serious in your life."

"I'm sorry about tha…" he looked at her messenger bag, "your phone."

Jordan held up her hand in apology and flipped it open, "Cavanaugh."

She nodded her head a few times, "Good. Okay. Sure." Woody relaxed slightly having confidence that her call was all good news.

"What?" Jordan screamed, "No, damn it, how can you be so incompetent? Did you triple check?" her voice dropped to a ritardando. "Yeah, whatever." She angrily shut her phone.

Her eyes dropped down as she rubbed her hand over her stomach.

Woody looked at her, staring her down with his crystalline eyes, "What?"

She looked at him in disbelief, "I'm, uh, I have to…I need a drink of water."

He nodded with a worried glance as she sprinted to the nearest water fountain, taking the cool water into her cupped hands before splashing it on her face. Wiping back stray strands of hair and composing herself, Jordan slowly walked back into Woody's room with eyes that simply devastated him.

"I'm sorry Woody, I have to…" she motioned towards the door.

His crystalline eyes rolled in an attempt to cover his devastation, "Jordan, wait. I…I know I can't really help you with chasing your problems right now, but I wouldn't mind role-playing them."

She looked incredulously at him, calculating how to safely role-play her situation with Woody. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips as her eyes twinkled slightly.

"Aright Farmboy role-play."


	8. Role Play The Truth Away

**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael- 

She sat down in the chair next to his and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"So, I have this body," her eyes briefly lingered on his face, "And she comes in with no visible signs of sex, her hymen still intact, and her labs come back indicating an increased amount of…uh, level of hormones standard in a pregnancy."

Woody stared at her in almost disbelief, "She was pregnant but hadn't had sex?"

She nodded her head profusely, "Yeah, it just doesn't add up."

"What was the COD?"

"Uh blunt force trauma to the head, hard. She was out cold within seconds. But I just keep thinking this pregnancy has something to do with it. Thing is, she was in and out of hospitals for years because of her sister's leukemia and never had time to do much other than go to school and sleep. Her life was tragic but uneventful until a month ago when an angry ER patient hurled some specimen jars at her, causing them to sever some nerves in her legs, but other than that…"

He stopped her, "Was she inseminated?"

"No, nothing in her medical history points to that."

"Then maybe she did have sex."

She stared at him intently, "No, no, just go on the assumption she was a virgin. It just doesn't add up."

"Okay, so somehow seaman has to enter her body with no physical contact," he ran a hand through his hair.

She was beginning to get uncomfortable in the stuffy room, tugging at her shirt collar and rolling up her sleeves.

A look of realization came over Woody's blue eyes, "I've got it!"

"What?"

"Her nerves were severed…that means the jars must have broken. Is it possible that there was seaman in those jars?"

She looked at him in horror, "Yes, yeah it's possible. Shit, I have to go."

"Jordan wait…" he called to an empty room.

Her shoes pounded against the linoleum floors as fast as she could, face red and hot with beads of perspiration. Struggling to get out her keys, Jordan fumbled with the lock on her apartment door. She rushed inside, collapsing against the door as it closed behind her, head between her legs in a desperate attempt to catch her breath and keep from getting sick.

"Shit," she mumbled softly as a tear attempted to stream down her cheek.

Standing up she said it more violently, "Shit!"

In a furious daze, she walked over to her refrigerator, thrusting it open and snatching up a beer. Grabbing the opener from the counter, she savagely yanked the cap off the beer before slamming closed the refrigerator door. Her heart quieted at the sound of the opener being angrily hurled at the counters, bringing her back into reality.

"Aw shit," she said furiously.

_No beer if you're pregnant. No scotch if you're pregnant. No anything if you're damn pregnant. What the hell am I supposed to do with myself?_

She tipped the beer into the sink, watching as the thick amber liquid sank into the darkness of the disposal drain. Almost robotically, she pulled all the beers out of the fridge and systematically watched as the liquid was disposed of. When she finished the last beer, she placed it next to the others, lined up along the counter perfectly, like an army of soldiers.

_Am I that damn incompetent as a woman that I couldn't tell sooner? Already at twelve weeks and I didn't notice a damn thing. _She sat distractedly down on the couch and rubbed a hand on her stomach. _How could I not see how fat I am? All the signs pointed to it._

She looked up as her cell phone was busily ringing. Staring blankly at the caller-id, two rings passed before she answered in a mechanical, "Cavanaugh."

She bit her lip, "Woody it's alright. Just some case."

A few moments passed, "No, no I'm not drunk," she couldn't help but add, "Wish I were."

"I'll be fine Woody. Just let me sort out this case, and it'll all be over. You know how this stuff gets to me," her voice betrayed the words, ringing with remorse and the slightest amount of fear.

"Run? What?" her voice cracked as she repeated what he had just said, "No, no, I'm not running." But the shock in her voice carried the distinct tone of someone whose plans had just been revealed.

"Yeah, I'll be over to see you tomorrow. Bye Woody."

She sunk further into the couch as she slammed shut her phone. It wouldn't be right to run, but she didn't want to tell him either. She didn't want him to say things because of extenuating circumstances. _Pity, yeah, I suppose that's what he was afraid of when I whispered those things to him. Don't really blame him. Not one bit._


	9. Anything You Want to Tell Me Jordan?

**A.N. **Sorry for the delay. I have been writing and re-writing this chapter. Please read and review!

* * *

**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

The next morning she awoke in a tangle of sheets, furiously kicking her legs to free herself from the pile. Overcast clouds hung limply in the sky with a groggy fog that seemed to have suppressed the entire city.

Pushing back hair from her face, Jordan made no attempt to hide her sulky mood. Almost in a zombie-like state, she pulled on pale pink, loosely fitting bohemian tank and a shapeless zip-up cardigan. Slipping on a baggy pair of trouser jeans and sensible running shoes, she grabbed her cell-phone and shoved it into her back pocket.

When Jordan arrived at the morgue she was already half an hour late and still in her sulky mood. She had yet to decide whether to tell anyone about her pregnancy. It would, after all, be much easier to relocate, but a part of her knew that sooner or later, everyone would know, including Woody.

"Jordan," Garret called from his office, "I need to see you for a minute."

Trying to perk up in attempts to avoid any unwanted questions, she put on a fake smirk and walked into his office. "What's up?"

He sat down and motioned for her to do the same. "Um, a Dr. Heilowitz stopped by today. She said she's your OB-GYN."

"Yeah, what did she want?"

"She dropped off a script and wanted me to tell you to get it filled immediately."

"Oh," Jordan took the script from Garret's hands and shoved it into her pocket.

"Is there anything you want to tell me Jo?" he asked in a paternal voice.

She hesitated for a moment before cocking her head and staring him straight in the eyes, "No, why?"

"I was just wondering why you need a script for pre-natal vitamins."

Her face dropped, eyes stealthily avoiding his gaze, "You must have read the prescription wrong. I don't need those." Jordan's voice was burdened, trying to make light of the situation but failing miserably.

"Jordan," he looked at her sternly, "What's going on?"

She raised her gaze to meet his, "Um, uh, I'm, uh, pregnant Garret. I don't really know how…I mean I do, but it doesn't make sense."

"So you really were raped?"

"No, no," she held her hands up, "I, uh, one of Woody's specimen jars containing his seaman spilled all over me a few months ago. That's how it happened," she looked at the ceiling shaking her head.

"Does he…"

"No, no I just found out last night. And I don't want him to know."

"He'll find out eventually Jo."

"I know," she brushed her hair back, "I'm just trying to avoid it."

And that was the truth. How could she explain to Woody that she was pregnant with his child despite neither of them wanting to have a baby? She wasn't the stupid girl who had unprotected sex and then instantly regretted it when she found out there are consequences. If that had happened, she reassured herself, then she would have embraced the idea. But to conceive a child without passion, without desire, and in a drunken state of emotional havoc... for the life of her, she could not see any good coming of this.

Garret stared at her long and hard, "Don't wait too long Jordan. The longer you wait, the harsher the blow."

"I just keep thinking that if I don't admit it, somehow it will just…go away." She looked close to tears, but expertly kept them from spilling over her eye lids.

"Jordan, no matter what, it won't go away. Even if you have an abortion, you will have still been pregnant."

Her eyes cut deeply towards Garret's, "I am _not_ having an abortion. I could never do that. There is some reason that I am…that I am…there's a reason for it. There has to be."

That too was the truth. Despite not wanting the child, she could not take the easy way out and just terminate the pregnancy, pretend as if it never happened.

She let an ironic chuckle escape her lips, "Truth is, part of me is still that nine year old girl sitting in mass on Sunday, listening to the priest give a homily on abortion being wrong. I guess over the years I convinced myself that pro-choice is the independent woman's stance, but I never thought that I would have to make that choice. Now being in that position, I can't even conceive how someone could make the other decision."

With a sigh Jordan stood up, "To be honest, I never really gave serious consideration to having kids. I never saw myself like this," she rubbed her stomach slowly.

Garret stood, running his hands up and down her upper arms consolingly, "Jordan, you will make a terrific mother. I've seen you with Emma. You're a natural. And Woody will be a good father. It may not have been planned, but it will work out. I can't think of two better parents."

A lone tear escaped her whiskey colored eyes, "What if I don't love it? What if I can't love it?"

Pulling Jordan into a tight embrace, Garret firmly replied, "You will love this child Jo, with all of your heart. You just need to allow yourself to feel. And when you first hold this beautiful new life in your arms the love will multiply exponentially. It's inevitable."

"I guess I need to start looking into a two bedroom apartment," she quipped.

"Ever considered a house?" Garret asked dryly.

"Garret? Come on…me in a house?" came her sarcastic remark.

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't hurt any. Why don't you take the day off and start looking?"

"I'd rather not. But if it makes you happy, I'm going to call my real-estate agent when I get into my office."

"You know what would really make me happy?" Garret gave her a slight smile.

Rolling her eyes briefly she decided to respond, "What?"

"If you told the baby's father."

She looked at him sternly before deciding that he deserved no grief for stating the obvious, "I'll tell him…tomorrow. I just need some time to get used to the idea myself," her eyes were twinkling as the corner of her mouth was raised slightly.

He could tell by her grin that she was feeling more comfortable with the situation already. Taking a big leap of faith he asked her one of the touchiest questions, one that he alone could get away with asking, "And Jo, would it kill you to start buying some maternity clothes?"

Her eyes danced at his daring inquiry, "Yes, yes it just might."


	10. I Can't Do It

**A.N. **Sorry it took so long to update. My computer has been acting up lately. As always, please review, even if it is negative or constructive. Reviews encourage me to update sooner.

* * *

**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

When Jordan walked into her office the next morning the first thing her eyes noticed was a poorly wrapped brown package sitting on the edge of her desk with a pink carnation nestled between the twine used to tie the package together. Her eyes raised inquisitively as she lifted up the unmarked parcel and felt it limply flop in her hands. Decidedly, she ripped off the brown paper to expose an envelope sitting on top of a small stack of clothing.

_Jo_

_Renee and I picked this out last night while you were watching Emma. She won't tell anyone. My hopes are that you wear this when you tell Woody tonight. Don't worry, my taste in clothing is not that bad. _

_Garret_

A small tear ran down Jordan's cheek as she folded the letter and stuffed it back into the envelope. Carefully, she picked up the shirt. It was a simple black sleeveless with a low cut square neckline, finished off by a sweet pink ribbon which outlined the neck, sleeves, and hem. She scanned it closely to find how it differed from regular clothing, finally noting the empire waist and the looser bodice. The skirt she then picked up came in a deep vintage denim with three modern darts running along the front. It had a slight a-line cut, and a well hidden maternity waistline.

She wouldn't have to look like a mother-to-be, just dress in clothes made to fit her changing body. As she went to throw the package out, she noticed a small note scribbled in Renee's handwriting attached to a simple Tiffany's heart necklace:

_Wear your hair curly. Good luck!_

_-R._

Jordan carefully refolded the clothes and placed them under her desk. She then attended to the Tiffany's necklace, basking in its simplicity and significance. Her fingers deftly fastened it around her slender neck where it hung perfectly.

"Oh!" she let out a startled cry as she looked down at her stomach.

The baby had given her a sound kick to which she quickly responded by placing her hand soothingly on the spot and rubbing gently.

_It's real. It is really happening. I'm going to be a mother. There is an actual baby growing inside of me. _

Despite her previous fury at the prospect of being pregnant, Jordan could not help but feel a twinge of excitement knowing that she would soon be a mother. With a rejuvenated smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes, Jordan headed into Autopsy 1.

"You look great Jo," Garret smiled as she walked into his office wearing the outfit he had given her.

She had allowed her hair to dry in bouncy curls, which nicely complemented her fuller figure.

"Thank Gar," she smiled as she rubbed her hands over her stomach protectively, "It really means a lot to me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He grinned, "You'd be unemployed."

"Good point," her laughter was reminiscent of the old Jordan, "I would be, wouldn't I?"

He tilted his head towards the floor, "Jordan, if he…if for some reason Woody is a jerk tonight," Garret paused, "Or anything, if anything, you know that I'm here for you. If you need a shoulder to lean on or to cry on, or a person to talk to, I'm there for you, Renee is there for you, and you can come over anytime. I just don't want to see you hurt."

Jordan took a deep breath, "I know." She smiled slightly, almost comfortingly, "I know."

Taking a moment to regroup, Garret placed a hand tentatively on her stomach and then to her face, tenderly, "Go get him Jo. It'll all work out."

* * *

Woody looked up from his hospital bed to see Jordan dressed the nicest she had been in the past few months. Her clothes seemed to actually fit her as opposed to stretch over her or hide her. He groaned slightly. 

"Who's your date?"

Jordan tentatively walked forward with her hands at her sides, "Date?"

He gave a weak yawn, attempting to seem nonchalant, "Yeah, you're all dressed up."

"Oh," she smiled slightly, "Then I guess it's you."

His cheeks had stubble from a week of neglecting to shave, "Haha. So then what is the occasion?"

Her heart leaped ahead, "Uh, oh, nothing. I just, well…" she blushed slightly, "Garret got sick of me wearing my old clothes. I'm just trying to keep the boss off my case."

"You?" he chuckled, "Wow, you really have changed."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His sapphire blue eyes bore into her whiskey colored ones, connecting for an instant before dropping away, "I don't know."

An uneasy silence drifted between them for what seemed to be hours before he motioned for her to sit.

Jordan removed her jacket, placing it on the back of the chair and pausing to study the wall clock so that Woody received a view of her from the side. When she finally sat down, her hands went protectively to her stomach, still small but noticeable.

"Um, Woody, I need to talk to you for a minute."

He stared at her incredulously, "Okay."

Her short nails ran through her hair in a frantic frenzy.

"What, Jordan?"

She looked at him briefly before turning away, "Uh, just forget it."

"Alright. Well, in that case, I need to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Remember a few days ago, that case with the young virgin who was pregnant?"

Jordan nodded sullenly.

"When Roz called I asked about the case and she had no clue what you were talking about."

Jordan knew this was it. Her chance had come to tell Woody whether she was prepared for it or not. And if truth be told, she was quite a bit relieved not having to actually initiate the conversation.

She nodded slowly, "Um, yeah, I kind of need to talk to you about that Woody…" her voice lingered on.

"Were you lying to me Jordan? Did you make that case up just to appease me?"

At the corners of her eyes tears started to form, but she stubbornly kept them inside, "No," she shook her head, "No."

"Then what? What Jordan?" he looked furiously at her before turning away and running a frantic hand in his hair, "Oh my God, Jordan, it's you. You're pregnant, aren't you?"

She nodded slowly, "Yeah, um, three months. I'm going to be a mom."

As Jordan rose from the chair she placed her hands gingerly on her stomach, "And you're going to be a dad."

"I…I don't think I…Jordan we are hardly even friends right now. How can we have a child together?"

"Because you'll make a great father, and I'm slowly adjusting to the idea of being a mom. Look, Woody, we don't have to get married or date or anything so long as we are friends and parents. I know you don't want a relationship with me. But I want you to have a relationship with our child."

Woody turned his head away, "When did you find out?"

"The other day."

He turned back to face her, "And you two are okay?"

She smiled, "Yeah, yeah." Her hands were rubbing gentle circles on her stomach when she let out a delighted squeal, "Oh, oh, quick Woody, it's kicking. Quick put your hand here," she took his reluctant hand and pressed it to her stomach.

His face briefly lit up before he looked away from Jordan, "I can't do this Jor. I just can't."


	11. Damn You

**A.N.** It's been a while since I've update, but things have been insanely hectic lately. I'm anxiously awaiting the Crossing Jordan season premiere! It should be a good one. As always, please review. If you read the story, it takes two seconds to review, and it means so much, even if it isn't positive. Thanks!

* * *

**Cry Another Day**

**-**Elisabeth Carmichael-

Her phone was ringing endlessly in the background, but all she could hear was the sound of Alison Krauss's "Maybe" blaring into her ears.

_Maybe it's for the best_

_I can live alone, I guess_

_Maybe I can stand alone_

_Maybe I'm strong as stone_

_Even though the bird has flown_

Jordan winced slightly at the memory of the night. He had turned her away again. She was supposed to be the reluctant and scared one. She was supposed to run away from it all. She was supposed to be the child in the relationship. Now he forced her to be the adult as he ran. Her hopes had been for some sort of truce, but instead he dropped a bomb on her fragile self and shattered it to pieces.

"Maybe I can stand alone," she belted out, "Maybe I'm strong as stone. Even though the bird has flown, maybe he'll…" her voice cracked into slight sobs as she turned off her iPod and threw it aside.

The ringing persisted, but she felt too exhausted both physically and mentally to walk over to her phone. Instead her whiskey eyes stared dismally at the phone as the machine picked up, "Hey this is Jordan. Leave a message after the…," tripping could be heard in the background, "Damn. Ah screw it. Just leave a message."

"Hey, uh, this is Woody again. Please call me Jordan. Please," there was a hint of urgency in his voice that she had not heard from him in over a year, but that didn't change the contempt she felt for him.

Slowly she walked over to the phone and dialed his number, a look of mixed rage and hurt playing across her face.

"Jordan," his voice sounded relieved on the other end of the line.

But hers was cold and angry, "I got your message. Make it quick."

"I'm sorry about how I acted earlier. I just want you to know that I'll pay however much child support you need."

"Woody, for all I care you can go straight to hell. I don't need your money. I was hoping for your moral support, not child support, but obviously that was hoping for too much. Now if you don't mind, I need to pack."

She hung up without letting him reply, furiously tossing the phone on her bed. He didn't need to know that she was only going to a conference for the weekend. It would be better to let him sweat.

Jordan crawled up onto the bed and pulled her legs towards herself, hugging them as her chin rested on her knees, biting slightly on her lower lip. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. They were supposed to gradually work back into their normal relationship, but her pregnancy put a kink in the plan. Soft tendrils bounced back and forth like a pendulum as Jordan shook her head.

"No, no, this baby is what I need. It's a good thing," her voice was scraggly but fiercely determined, almost as if she were trying to convince herself.

Her fingers toyed with the silver heart that would become a fixture around her neck, allowing the point of the heart to dig into her thumb, almost impervious to the pain. Love. It all came down to love. Her fear of losing it, of giving it, of having it savagely taken away, but with this precious life growing inside her abdomen, she felt the urge to love selflessly and completely another human being. It scared her, but it was a wonderful fear.

* * *

The harsh florescent lighting stung his eyes, penetrating his skull and squeezing his brain until every part of his body throbbed. His desperate attempt to shield himself with the flimsy hospital sheets was futile, only making his body ache more from the movement. Slowly he rotated his head, unable to even curse at the pain, and stared at the heart monitor. It was not a heart attack. Maybe it was the sting of her words. She was packing…running…leaving him and never coming back. But why did this really concern him? He had wanted her out, and now she was.

He knew he had been a jerk to her, no, not a jerk, an ass, a complete and total ass hole. Maybe this was what he deserved. Hell, he didn't even deserve to have her ever speak to him again. She did nothing wrong and yet she wound up pregnant with his child, and he knew she was scared, but he did nothing. This was a light punishment. He deserved so much worse.

Picking up the phone, Woody cautiously dialed Jordan's number.

It rang four times before her machine picked up. He hung up without leaving a message and tentatively pressed speed dial two to call her cell phone. This time he reached her voicemail.

"Hey, you've reached Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh. Leave a message after the beep."

"Uh, Jordan, I just wanted you to know how sorry I am for being a jerk. If you don't return this message I understand, and I have no right to tell you not to run, but please, don't do it because of me. This is your home, and all your friends are here. I hope you and the baby are safe and healthy. Bye."

Sighing heavily he closed his eyes. The pain continued to pulse throughout his body, but at least he felt slightly better being able to tell her sorry.

* * *

A few days later after a much needed vacation from the city and a slightly boring conference in New York, Jordan returned to her apartment at 311 Pearle Street with two shopping bags full of maternity clothing from some of New York's cutest maternity boutiques. She had also decided to treat herself to a pedicure and hair cut, which left her hair in the gorgeous curls she had when she returned to Boston five years ago.

"Ah, home sweet home," Jordan sighed as she flopped down on her couch. It had been a long drive home, and she was desperately trying not to think of how nice a beer would taste at the moment.

Her eyes looked over to her answering machine, "Holy crap! How can I have 27 messages? I was gone for three days!"

"Woody," she moaned after deleting the last of her messages, "Why the hell would he call 25 times?"

One had been from a high school friend, another from her doctor, and the rest were all from Woody. Each one was short, desperate, and slightly pathetic as he apologized and told her to come home.

"Idiot. Why the hell would he leave these on my home phone if I moved?" she snarled pouring herself a glass of water, "If he really were sorry, he'd say how much he wants to be a part in our child's life. Our child, not 'your baby' or 'the baby' as he keeps saying. If he were really sorry he wouldn't be such a damn ass hole! Ugh!" She slammed her water glass down on the counter and savagely twisted off the cap to her prenatal vitamins.

"'Sorry Jordan. Sorry. I'm really sorry. I hope you and your baby are okay. Sorry.' Damn you Woody Hoyt!" At this point she was shouting. With her back against the refrigerator, she slid to the floor and whimpered, "Damn you. Damn you."

**A.N. **Again, please review. The more reviews, the faster I tend to update. Thanks, Lis.


	12. Getting Closer

**A.N. **Thanks for the reviews! I'm sorry it has taken so long to update, but life is getting more hectic as the days grow shorter. Like everyone, I am anxiously awaiting the premiere! One week! Yeah! Please leave a review!

* * *

**Cry Another Day**

-Elisabeth Carmichael-

"I see you've taken my advice Jordan," Garret grinned at her as she walked off the elevator sporting very Jordan-esque maternity clothes.

She flashed him a pathetic attempt at a smile.

Garret grabbed her arm lightly and pulled her into his office, "Why are you so down?"

"What're you talking about man?" she flipped her hand nonchalantly at him.

"I don't know," his voice grew gruff, "you just seem less…less…you."

"He, uh, he doesn't want to be in our child's life," she nervously bit her lip.

"Oh Jordan, I'm so sorry. I can't believe he'd…" Garret drew her into a friendly hug, consoling her.

"I'll be fine. He's just such an ass!" Jordan sounded hysterical, "I mean, he can't do this to me. I love him, he runs, I'm pregnant, he runs. Does he really hate me that much?"

Garret sighed heavily, "No, he could never hate you. I'm sure he's just scared. Look at him, cooped up in a hospital for almost four months, looking forward to at least a month of desk duty, and now here he is told you're pregnant and he's the father…" Garret paused, "I'm not justifying his actions, but I can see why he's afraid."

"I'm scared too! Look at me Garret. I'm not fit to be a mother."

"That's not true Jordan. You will make a great mom."

"Thanks Gar," she smiled slightly.

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

"Nah," she shook her head, "He's made his choice. Let him sweat over it."

Garret sighed, shaking his head, "Jane Doe, waiting in trace for you."

Jordan grabbed the file from his hand with a slight smirk and then placed a kiss on his forehead.

* * *

Garret ran a hand through his short hair as he walked towards the elevator. Nigel was running to catch up with him.

"Hey Dr. M!" the lanky Brit shouted, "Can I have a moment?"

Garret turned, "Sure Nigel. What is it?"

"Um, I was wondering," his voice was subdued, "Have you noticed any changes in Jordan lately?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. She's been really moody. Happy one day, down right depressed the next, almost as if she keeps changing her mind about something. I'm worried. She's been putting on a lot of extra weight too."

Garret sighed, "Look Nigel, I'm sure she's just worried about Woody. She'll get better."

Wary eyed, Nigel accepted Garret's reason, "Alright. Tell dear Woodrow hello for me, will you?"

Garret nodded, "Sure thing."

Fifteen minutes later he arrived at Woody's hospital room, red from walking up the stairs.

"Where the hell do you get off treating Jordan like that?" he stormed into the room, anger written in the crease of every line on his face.

Woody looked up from the chair he was sitting in, "Excuse me Dr. Macy?"

"She's scared to death and you tell her you can't be a part of your child's life?"

"I told her I'm sorry. I just don't think I can handle that sort of relationship with Jordan."

"Why? Because she loves you? Because she made herself vulnerable and now suddenly the game is over and she isn't desirable? To be honest, right now I don't think Jordan needs you. You don't deserve her. It's your baby too, and she is trying her hardest to come to terms with the pregnancy. But she has no options. She can't run away from the baby. Grow up Woody."

Two stormy blue eyes stared intently at Dr. Macy, eyes furious, "She ran from me! Maybe over time I could have come to grips with this, but she ran away. Our relationship was rocky from the very beginning…it never had a chance. Look Dr. Macy, I have tried to convince her to come back home, but she is screening my calls."

Garret looked at Woody incredulously, "Jordan is home. What are you talking about?"

"The other night she returned one of my calls and then hung up in a fury, saying she had to pack. Didn't you wonder why she didn't show up for work?"

"Jordan was at a conference this weekend in New York. She came back last night."

Embarrassed, Woody averted his gaze, turning it instead out the window onto the bright Boston day. Maybe, just maybe the weather was a sign indicating how things would work out with Jordan. Perhaps all was not lost.

"Is she pissed?"

Garret seemed startled at the sound of Woody's voice, "What do you think!"

"So it would be a bad idea to see her?"

Garret studied the detective, looking for any sign of insincerity, "Actually, I think that would be okay." He paused, staring straight into Woody's eyes, "If you don't upset her."

"Alright, okay, good. I'm getting released today. Maybe I'll drop in on her tonight."

"Just remember Woody, she's scared as hell." With that, Garret left the room, striding off down the hall.

Woody laughed slightly to himself, "Jordan Cavanaugh scared…now this I have got to see."

* * *

A burning pizza was in the oven, timer beeping furiously as Jordan tried to read the instructions for assembling the crib she had just purchased. She padded over to the stove, still trying to decode the manual in one hand as she pulled the pizza from the oven with the other.

"Ouch!" she recoiled from the hot crust. Staring intently at the instruction booklet as she turned off the oven, she shouted in frustration, "What the hell does 'tak' mean?"

Unfortunately her brilliant plan to purchase a stylish, mid-century, Danish crib had one major flaw: the instructions came in Danish, Swedish and Norwegian. She walked back over to the pile of beautiful teak, hoping that it would magically put itself together.

"Okay, all I have to do is connect the 'bordet' to the…" she could not pronounce the next word, "I give up."

Someone rapped twice on her door, almost afraid of making a noise.

"Coming, coming," Jordan said lazily as she walked to the door.

Opening it a crack, she saw the last person she had expected, Woody.

"Uh, um, why aren't you in the hospital?" she stammered.

"Released today."

"Oh," she looked to the floor, "Do you need something?"

"Just to tell you how sorry I truly am," he studied her body.

Her stomach was growing, albeit slowly, and her skin had taken on a healthy glow.

Jordan remained silent.

"Can I come in Jo?" he asked tentatively.

She looked up, "Yeah, whatever, maybe you can help me."

"With what?"

"Assembling this crib," she waved her hand towards the pile of teak, "The instructions are in Danish."

"Isn't it a little soon to set up a crib?"

Her eyes narrowed sharply, "No. I have to get ready to be a single mom; it pays to be prepared."

Woody was obviously beating himself up over asking such a stupid question, "Look, Jordan, I was thinking. I've been a jerk about this whole thing."

"Yeah, you have."

"I'm just afraid. I didn't want our relationship to be built on anything besides true love. That's why I pushed you away when I was shot. And then with this pregnancy…I just…it all got so complicated."

"When all you wanted was to see where we ended up," she finished for him, "I know. Woody, trust me, I know."

A comfortable silence floated between the two, a neutral truce for two stubborn minded people.

"You gonna help put this together or what?" Jordan finally said, grabbing a piece of teak and tilting it up.

"Whoa there. No heavy lifting for you Jordan," Woody smiled affectionately.

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

* * *

The next morning, Jordan woke up with a groan as light filtered in through the windows and made dancing patterns across the floor. She threw back her duvet and sat up, wiping her eyes. Adjacent to her bed was the completed crib, still without any linens, but handsomely outfitted in stunning teak and sleek lines.

_How did that get there? _She wondered in her daze. _I don't remember figuring out how to assemble it. _

Slowly she picked herself up out of bed and proceeded to take off her tank top as she walked towards the kitchen, exposing her simple grey bra. She fixed herself a cup of coffee before sitting down at the table, one hand resting on her protruding stomach.

"What's that smell? It smells so good," came a groggy voice from somewhere in Jordan's living room.

She turned around stunned, trying to cover her body up with her hands as she sought out the voice. Only then did she remember who had stopped by the previous night, Woody.

"Woody?" she called out tentatively.

She could hear him on her couch scrambling to sit up, "Where am I?"

Slowly, Jordan walked into his view, "I think you fell asleep on my couch."

Woody stared at her incredulously, "Jordan? What the?" only then did he realize how very little she was wearing, "Umm," he turned his head away in embarrassment.

"Excuse me," Jordan pardoned herself to get her robe.

"I fell asleep here?"

"Yeah I guess. After you finished the crib maybe."

He swallowed, "I vaguely remember that. You were exhausted Jordan."

"Thanks Woody, for helping with the crib. But I think maybe you should leave now," her eyes betrayed her words.

"Yeah, you're probably right. But don't hesitate to call if you need help with anything like that. I don't want you to get hurt because in spite of it all, I still care about you as a friend."

"I know Woody," she smiled slightly, "I do too."

"So, are we okay?" he gave her a hesitant show of his dimples.

"No, but you're getting closer."


End file.
